


Second

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Peripheral Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's worse than being second best. It's feeling like a spare part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second

It's a thought that comes often. It doesn't wait until he's alone. It's not courteous like that. 

Sometimes he'll be sitting on the floor of the gym, tying his shoes and watching Kageyama toss to Asahi, Daichi opposite with a huge grin on his face as Asahi slams the ball down on the other side of the net once again. Daichi's pride in his ace makes Suga's heart swell and he smiles. 

And then his chest aches with something else, because he's not the one in between them. He's not the one who helped Asahi make that spike. 

It's worse during games. Especially the later games. Time is running out and Suga feels it creeping into his bones, setting him on edge until there's a lump in his throat and he wants to shout at Ukai, “Let me in! Please let me in! I don't have a lot of time left.” He takes what he can, fragments of sets, a few serves, never allowed to stay for long. Graduation day looms closer, their next match could be their last, and the feeling spreads until Suga's body is tense and the slightest touch could set him off. 

It happens during a match in Tokyo. Eighteen years old, and Suga thinks he should know how to deal with this sort of thing before he goes away to university. Volleyball will be a memory. He'll be moving on with his life. He'll be studying pre-med, working towards a career in helping people, in feeling useful like he can't feel useful now. He can encourage, but he can't use his own hands. 

It bothers him as he stands off to the side, surrounded by others who have more time than him to grow, to step onto the court and fight. They might be losing. The game could go either way. Suga takes the feeling in his throat and releases it with frantic shouts of encouragement and frustration. He balls his hands into fists, fingers itching to toss the ball to the spot he knows Daichi will hit it best, to the place he knows Asahi would slam it into the ground. 

It happens when Daichi and Asahi both run up to attack, Kageyama tosses the ball in the air and it sails over Hinata's head. Hinata always jumps, no matter what. But this time he doesn't hit, because Asahi swings and the ball hits the ground on the other side. The team beyond the net looks stunned, and everyone on Karasuno's side of the court bunches together, jumps in the air. 

Suga's yell cuts off, strangled in his throat. Daichi and Asahi on either side of Kageyama, ruffling his hair. Suga wishes it were him, and it's a selfish thought, he thinks. He doesn't want to think that. But the next thought comes anyway. 

He doesn't need to be here. 

He's replaceable. 

He's not good enough. 

It stops him in his tracks. 

The court seems distant now. The noises from the game are just buzzing in his ears. Someone shakes his shoulder. They're three sets in and they've just gained the lead. They are going to win. 

Suga excuses himself and heads for the bathroom. 

It's empty, because everyone is watching the match. If he were alone, at home in his room, he could curl up and close his eyes and try to forget. But he still has a long bus ride home. He won't be left alone. There will be another match tomorrow. He won't be part of it, because he isn't necessary. 

Daichi is going with him to university. Asahi is staying in Miyagi. It's times like these when Suga wonders whether they'll find something better in the future. First volleyball, then the rest of his life. Suga thinks he'll always come in second place, and he thinks that maybe it's not worth being around after all. 

That last thought scares him. It usually only comes after hours of lying awake in bed. He can usually shake it by the next morning, come into practice with a smile, determined to prove that he can offer something, anything to the team. That's why he didn't leave during his third year. He stayed because he knew he could fight, because he wanted to fight. But it gets harder to remember that as they near the end. It gets harder because he's getting tired. 

He feels like a spare part, and at first it was only in volleyball, but now it's in life. He thinks he might need to talk to someone. But he can't do anything from this bathroom, hours away from home, in the middle of a tournament. 

The door opens and Suga steps away from the sink. His eyes are dry but his face is pale. Someone claps on hand on his shoulder, and he hears Daichi say, “are you okay?” 

Suga's lips form what should be a smile, and he intends to turn to Daichi and tell him that he's fine, but when he looks at Daichi, at the concern in his face, he realizes that he can't lie. Daichi will see right through him like he always does. 

“I-I don't know,” he manages. 

Daichi pulls him close into a hug. Suga rests his head on Daichi's shoulder, feels his breath hitch. 

“I should be happy,” he murmurs. “We won, right?” 

“We did,” Daichi says. “What's wrong, Suga?”

“I shouldn't feel this bad,” Suga tells him, burying his face in the fabric of Daichi's uniform. “I feel like...I'm not necessary.” 

Daichi's grip on Suga tightens. “You are.” 

“There will always be someone better.” 

“Suga.” Daichi pulls away from him to look Suga in the eye. “That isn't true. There's only one you, and you mean the world to me.” 

Suga's eyes widen. 

“Remember that,” Daichi says, “or I'll pull a you and punch you in the stomach.” 

Suga laughs, a bit breathless, his eyes stinging. “I don't know why I forget. Maybe I should see someone.”

“That's up to you,” Daichi says. “But when you can't see someone, you know you have me, right? Don't do that thing where you just keep it to yourself.” 

“But Daichi-” 

“No buts,” Daichi insists. “If you forget, I'll always remind you.”

“Always?” Suga feels hope starting to chase away the heaviness in his head. 

Daichi smiles, bright. Confident. “Always.”


End file.
